The End of the Adventures in South Africa

The last week afforded little time for reflection and the trip home boasted lots of chickflicks and naps. So as I landed in New York, my brain began to catch up with me and I jotted down a few of my rambling thoughts.

The plane has begun its descent and my heart is both jumping with joy and anticipation and sinking at the finality of it all. I’ve left South Africa. I’ve left the place that became a catalyst for growth, that hosted self-realization and really inspired it. I look out the window and see the shores of the East Coast and realize that I’m in the US again. I’m not going to land hear at least 3 languages and I most likely won’t hear Xhosa for quite some time. While there’s something comforting in being back in one’s usual environment and culture, I can’t say I look forward to the homogeneity. The comfort of my friends and family and the normalcy afforded by being with them is something I’ve been missing the entire time I’ve been gone. I hope that I am able to take the lessons I have learned and hold them close even when I’m not in the country that gave birth to those new ideas. I can’t wait to be back in the presence of those I love and to share my experiences with them.

             By the time I landed in Des Moines, I was simply bouncing in my seat. I saw Zach on the runway as we taxied up to the hanger. I smiled at the pink flowers in this hand and the tie he was wearing.  Of course my dad took forever talking to the pilot and opening the door and I almost knocked him over as I ran down the stairs behind him to get to Zach. Once I landed in Zach’s hug I’m not sure I left until we had to get in the car. Actually I’m pretty sure I still haven’t stopped hugging him. Or talking his ear off for that matter. They say home is where the hear is and spending the last few days with Zach, my friends, and my horses had proved that to be true. I’m so very grateful for my time in South Africa but I’m equally grateful that I’m home with the people I love.

Last Day at the House of Resurrection AIDS Haven

            I knew our last day at House would be difficult but I suppose I didn’t realize just how difficult it would be. Most of us rode a rollercoaster of emotions all day. We simply played with the kids as we normally do for the first part of the day. Knowing we wouldn’t play it with the kids again, “Little Sunny Girl” became a poignant song. Cede actually sang throughout and when he finally got picked for sunny girl, all the children cheered for him. After we’d played the usual games, we decided to read the story for them the first time. An uncommon hush fell over them as they heard their names being read in a real storybook. I was pretty proud of myself that I didn’t cry while reading it aloud but then I looked at the others, kids in their laps, choking up a little and as usual, a few tears sprung up. They were quickly wiped away while the kids ate their PB&J and we began to paint. They got it all over themselves and even decided to explore the new taste of paint. Our final art project was a large poster with everyone’s hand painted on. We painted the kids hands and pressed them onto the paper and repeated the process with ourselves. We labeled every handprint and hung it up in the playschool. The process was completely full of giggles and children running around with paint all over, a dangerous prospect for all clothing involved…and faces. After cleaning off the majority of the paint, we again sat them down for the story. This time, they shrieked at each mention of a name, uncontrollably laughing. They did finally listen to the story but most of them were sniggering the whole time, pretending they were paying full attention. The giggles resurfaced and grew even louder when we gave them all a popsicle, a treat they wondered at and of course got all over. In case they weren’t hyper enough after painting and popsicles, we gave them each a sillyband and they all got so excited to have bracelets that matched ours. When they got their lunch, they all held up their hands yelling ‘Mama look! Look!’ to the housemothers who gave them lunch.

            Unfortunately, with each activity we did, the time to leave got closer and closer. We began to say our goodbyes, starting with the staff. Sheila cried and Renee clouded up a little. Renee took a picture of all seven of us on the front steps with the hand painting and a housemother took a picture of us with all the kids, the painting held up behind us all. As we began to hug all the kids, their faces showed a little recognition. We’d explained it to Lisa (the smartest girl who should definitely be in Kindergarten) and she had said, “How many of you are there? [pause while she counted us.] Well, I will miss all seven of you!” So she, Mkhitha, and possibly Kuhle seemed to understand that we wouldn’t be coming back. The rest just seemed to understand that something serious was going on, that there was a reason to be a little sad since we were all trying so hard not to cry. They gave us all the biggest hugs they had, repeatedly. Cede broke my heart as he alternately hugged me tightly and sat back and gave me big smiles. I tried to explain it to him and at one point his response to the fact that I wouldn’t be back was a very straight face, a shake of the head, a big hug, and a smile (in that order). As we left the playschool, my eyes filled with tears, as I knew they would. We walked down the sidewalk with slow and heavy steps, sitting down on the grass to wait for Shadly. We’ve given these children love and attention for four months. We’ve seen them grow a little and get a little happier and more comfortable with each day. Nonetheless, the heart breaks a little leaving them.

The Best Day Ever at the Haven

             Smiles, giggles, hugs, and boerwors were aplenty today at House. Our group had set out to provide the kids at house with a “Fun Day” and that we did. The whole crew was there including all the older kids, all the staff, and the majority of our CSB/SJU group. The jumping castle man set up an extra jumping castle for free and the kids had an absolute blast. Most of the kids were bedecked with face paint by noon. The boys wore Spiderman and batman paint quite proudly and the girls smiled with flowers and rainbows (and of course there were the boys with rainbows and the girls with cars). Cede was a rollercoaster himself today. One minute he was forlornly clinging to me with his head on my shoulder and the next he was a ball of energy bouncing up and down and around on the jumping castle and twirling me in circles. Many of the other kids from the playschool seemed overwhelmed by all the new people, the loud music, and the hyper activity. They seemed to regain energy after the lunch of boerwors, chips, potato and bean salad, and Coca-cola. Our little ones from the playschool were loyal friends and sought each of us out throughout the day. They commanded us to help them jump, carry them on our shoulders, and swing them around in the air. The day was certainly a success if you measure it in smiles and laughs but we all left feeling a little bittersweet that these fun days are numbered.

Fall Break: Coffee Bay and the drive home

             We left for the airport to rent our car bright and early Saturday morning. Heather, Breanne and I met Taylor and Joey there and we drove in tandem with them on the way home. To split the 14 hour drive up, we stayed the night in Coffee Bay. The road wound and bumped it’s way down to the coast and we arrived at the two backpackers we were to stay at. The guys were at the Coffee Shack and we were at the Sugarloaf Backpackers. I must say ours was much cuter and we had a lovely little dinner. However, there was a large group of middle-aged people apparently having a reunion and definitely having a little too much to drink so Taylor and Joey came and got us and we went to the Coffee Shack for a drink and a pool game. It was a lively atmosphere and the drinks we ordered were really quite pretty. I must say it’s the first time I’ve had an audience while playing pool or ever been asked to help someone else on their team. It made for a fun night but we were quite happy to get back to our backpacker and get ready for bed. While brushing our teeth, the ever-present phenomenon of good conversation in the women’s bathroom presented itself. Three girls were there from various cities in South Africa and they were intent on discovering our thoughts on cultural differences and why on earth we chose Port Elizabeth over Cape Town to study (a very common question). After we finally said our goodnights, I called my Zach and went to bed tired and ready for more driving the next morning. The rest of the drive to PE afforded more of the absolutely gorgeous scenery we’ve been so spoiled with in South Africa. Once in PE we collapsed on our beds and prepared ourselves for the busy week ahead and hoped to schedule in some recuperation from the long adventures had over fall break.

Fall Break: Durban Day 3

Friday, 29th April

            The Victoria Street Market was the one mission we simply had to complete during our time in Durban. The market lies in the heart of a bustling center of informal commerce full of more colors, smells, and sights than ever. On our way to the market we spotted what we thought was the mosque we wanted to visit as well. After walking through the smelliest under-the-bridge market possible, we entered the gate to the mosque and quickly discovered that it was a Muslim cemetery. The women sitting along the wall beckoned us in and invited us to venture inside. They then gave us directions to the largest mosque in the southern hemisphere, which was our original aim. A man from the Islamic Propagation Center International gave us the tour as he was given special permission to speak with women inside the mosque. While I have not seen another mosque before, the Juma Masjid Mosque was a sight to behold. To be honest, I’m not sure I can describe it well enough. Let’s just call it a cultural experience that I will never forget. (I apologize for the vagueness).

            After our detour to the mosque, we made our way into the Victoria Street Market. Essentially it was the most jam packed building full of vendors (over 170) I’ve ever seen. The mix of African and Indian influences was fully intriguing (Durban has the largest population of Indian people outside of India herself). We explored the wonderful mix of the souvenirs we see everywhere and the souvenirs we’ve never seen. The smells of curry and coriander blended with incense to guide us along the rows of vendors. Once we had all visited nearly every stall, purchased a few souvenirs, and our senses had been overloaded, we made our way back to Florida Road. We had a light lunch at the vegetarian café and browsed around the charming shop. The rest of our day entailed a little rest and a little steak dinner and an early bedtime before our journey back to PE.

           

Fall Break: Durban Day 2

Thursday, 28th April

             The second day in Durban was lovely in all it’s simplicity. We returned to Florida Road and the African Art Center. The moment I stepped in the room, I wanted to take it all home. I planned to be generous and split it with my Grandmother but alas I don’t think my suitcase was large enough. I settled for getting both of us a Zulu wire basket but thoroughly enjoyed browsing through the explosion of colors. After we spent almost 2 hours in the African Art Center, we made our way to the new and improved accommodation, Surf ‘n Dreams. It was inviting, warm, clean, and safe! There was a locked gate and then a thumb scan entry into the house itself so compared to the lovely Banana, we were quite happy. We ran into a Tommy grad (St. Thomas in Minneapolis, for those who are unaware, are the largest (friendly) rivals of the illustrious Bennies and Johnnies of CSB/SJU) who was traveling the world. We settled into the place, feeling safe about leaving our things as one should in a backpacker, and made our way down to the famous beaches of Durban. The walk provided a great view of the pretty part of Durban. Once to the beach front we grabbed a bunny chow (1/4 loaf of bread hollowed out and filled with curry) and ice cream and browsed the vendors. On the way home, we decided to try the Kombis of Durban seeing as we are pros at the public taxis in PE now. We asked around and found our way onto the correct Kombi and were told where to get off and transfer. At the transfer location, we were greeted by students who seemed to be astounded that we had been riding a Kombi. They asked us questions and took a picture, as if to provide evidence that yes, they did see a bunch of white girls on a Kombi. Once we had shaken the gawkers, who were quite normal and friendly thankfully, we got on the next Kombi and were yet again gawked at and asked questions. The only problem came into play when we had to shift seats. We got off the Kombi at our stop and my heart plummeted to the sidewalk when I felt my empty pocket. My feet carried me faster than I knew possible, chasing after the Kombi whose backseat carried my camera. Alas, my short legs could not carry me as fast as a Kombi can drive and I became resigned to the fact that the camera was gone and someone else was very happy to have my Christmas present in their possession. Dinner and drinks on Florida Road that night were a nice consolation prize. I had a curry roti wrap, which astonished us all when it came out at least double the size of a Chipotle burrito. Needless to say, I did not finish the beast. We went to bed full and happy, albeit lacking a camera.

Fall Break: Durban Day 1

Wednesday, 27th April

            Summer through all seasons is an enticing phenomenon. As the weather in Port Elizabeth gets colder, eternal summer becomes even more inviting so we planned a trip to Durban. Ten girls left on Wednesday morning, and three other people left on Thursday to visit the warm city. Our trip started out a little tenuously as a few of the ten got back to the hotel from Long Street (the famous party street in Cape Town) a little too close to our 5 am departure for the airport. Everyone was back to a normal state by the time we landed in Durban and we made our way to Banana Backpackers, our accommodation for the few nights were there. We got a pretty unpleasant surprise that got much more so the more we saw of the backpacker. In the ground floor of the building that housed the backpacker, was a lovely establishment called ‘Sonya’s Massage and Escort’. No, I am not kidding you. The young lady in her bikini looked very nice but for some odd reason, I wasn’t the happiest camper with the location, which also boasted a slightly sketchy neighborhood. The cockroaches we found later didn’t help either.

            On the more positive side of our first day in Durban, we got to explore some great spots. We began the day at the Durban Botanic Gardens, a little piece of Eden in the middle of a dense city. We each took about a bajillion pictures (that’s the scientific term for the amount of pictures taken) and the browsing seemed nearly endless, especially for Taylor, who was still on crutches from her Table Mountain ankle incident. After we’d had our fill of flowers for the day we made our way to find some lunch. We went to Nando’s in The Workshop (chain restaurant in a shopping mall). Afterwards, we decided to walk our way to the BAT Center. We stumbled upon the Natural Science Museum and my dorky self was even more in heaven. I had forgotten how much I loved museums until we begin to explore the exhibits. The Insect Arcade was a favorite of Taylor’s and boasted a really cool diagram that lit up little dots on the human body where various insects make their homes.

            We eventually left the museum, to the slight reluctance of those who wished it were bigger and to the relief of the antsy ones. The walk to the BAT Centre gave us a look at urban Durban and not necessarily of the prettiest parts of Durban. We finally found it, thanks to our handy dandy tourist map. We had to walk into a tunnel structure that took you under the train tracks and it smelled of urine and certainly housed people at night. But the creepy tunnel was certainly worth it when we came upon the eclectic building. There was more character in the building than I have ever seen grace a single structure. It really didn’t seem like a building anymore, rather it was a constantly morphing work of art that housed wonderful sounds of jazz and art that tempted the browser to the extreme. Sadly only a few of the artist shops were open when we went so our next stop came too soon. The quick spar doesn’t seem quite exciting enough to write about but it allowed for the purchasing of breakfast food and became the last stop of the day until dinner.

            We went to a Mexican restaurant on Florida Road. The Mexican food was certainly the closest we have come to that breed of cuisine and the road was a nice return to a neighborhood where we felt safe. We sadly had to return to Banana Backpackers, at which point we found the cockroaches. We got ready for bed and I called Zach, who is thankfully still able to calm me down about cockroaches and creepiness from 9,000 miles away.  I laid down on the sheets, about which I had a few doubts, and used my beach towel as a blanket. Sleep came a little easier knowing we had reservations for the next two nights at a backpacker by Florida Road and we would be departing Banana’s lovely establishment, and leaving the vicinity of Sonya’s, in the morning.

Fall Break: Cape Town Day 2 :)

Tuesday, 26th April

            Today was perhaps one of my favorite days of the trip. We began the drive out to Cape Point and stopped for coffee and a treat at Noordhoek Farm Village. I was accosted with the aroma of freshly baking bread and sugary delights upon entry. It seemed as though flour actually hung in the air as we marveled at the quaint little place, packed to the brim with people milling about the shop. After purchasing the largest carrot cake cupcake with Taylor, Heather, Mellissa, and Lindsay, we browsed through the art. I found a great Mother’s Day card and a painting of horses on an African beach that would be in my suitcase in a heartbeat if my suitcase was anywhere near large enough. Just before we were ushered out, we found a row of charming little shops that we had no time to explore. Warm chai tea lattes in hand, we continued on our way…to the edge of Africa.

            Cape Point is the point of Africa that is closest to Antarctica. To climb to the lighthouse on the point, which stands on a cliff towering over the ocean, you must traverse over 200 stairs and a whole lot of slanted sidewalk. Once on the point, we had to be careful not to blow over for the wind. After pictures were snapped and a quick sandwich was grabbed, we made our way to the penguins at Boulders Penguin Colony. The hundred some Korean tourists provided an entertaining backdrop to the African penguins braying and preening each other.

            Following the viewing of the cute little creatures, we made our way to a vineyard in the Constantia Valley. Groot Constantia played host to our large group as well as an even larger group of French children. I had not pictured a vineyard being so boisterous before. The road lined with fruit trees leading the way to Table Mountain’s beautiful backdrop thankfully wasn’t lessened in its effect by the French kids who had just downed a glass of wine and were playing on the lawn. I made a comment about said children and realized there was a French man behind me who asked what I was saying about French people. I replied that it’s well known that the French love wine and food and that it was great wine and food. He heartily agreed and a laugh was had. I’m glad I left out the part about the snobbery often connected with said love of dining. Shortly after the French episode, we began the tasting, which involved 5 nice wines: Sauvignon Blanc, Blanc De Noir, Shiraz, Cabernet Sauvignon, and Port. Even though the sommelier didn’t deign to explain the wines in any depth, the tasting was pleasant and the conversation was light and happy. The oven-fired pizzas we enjoyed for dinner that night were a great ending to a simply charming day.

Fall Break: Cape Town Day 1

Monday, 25th April           

            We spent Monday and Tuesday in Cape Town. Monday boasted the adventure of Table Mountain. The hike up is 2 hours straight up a gorge so 7 of us elected to take the cable car up and just hike down. The cable car had the capacity to hold over 60 people and its floor rotated 360 degrees as it made the four and a half minute ride up the mountain. We were able to see the city, ocean, and mountain but somehow the view from the top was even better. The mist that hung low to the ground  provided an amazing view of the mountain’s impressive drop, houses climbing its skirt. After a beer on the top with the girls and lunch with the crew who had climbed, we all headed back down the mountain, a trek that would take four and a half hours. The harsh rain on the top dissipated after about 45 minutes and we all dried by the time we made it back down the mountain for the most part. The scenery was absolutely stunning, reminiscent of what I imagine Ireland would look like, combined with a little Lord of the Rings. We had reached a bakkie (truck) path when Taylor decided to find an uneven piece of ground and roll her ankle quite badly. It swelled immensely in the first few minutes and the boys all had to take turns giving her a piggy back down the mountain. Once home, she went to the doctor, Laura accompanying her and Bruce since she hadn’t been to a hospital in SA yet. Heather and I decided to explore our way to The Chocolate House we had passed in the car that morning to buy Taylor some chocolate. We found our way and were pleasantly surprised to enter a room plush with deep red furnishings and gilt in gold. The older lady whose store it was was quite a convincing sales person and we left the irresistible shop with far more chocolate than we had planned on. She had given Heather and I two fresh cream chocolates each, one tasting faintly of Swiss cheese in a delightful way. Despite our slightly more empty pockets, we had tummies full of delicious chocolate and a treat for our wounded friend. Dinner that evening was at a restaurant famous for its burgers and milkshakes. We had great conversation and sat with the tour guides which was interesting since got to hear more about Cape Town that way. The peanut butter banana milkshake and feta cheese on my burger very obviously made for a happy Katie.

Fall Break: Easter Sunday

Sunday 24th April 2011

            This Lent has been quite bizarre to be honest. Holy Week has been even more so. Bungee jumping on Good Friday just seems a little odd. The agenda for Easter Sunday held Mass at a catholic church in Cape Town, returning to the multi-cultural service at Kanyisa back in Gugulethu that the rest of the group attended, lunch at Mzoli’s, and a tour of Robben Island. Mass was nice, but it was certainly the first time I had sat on the floor in the aisles of a church before. There were only 6 of us who went. Thankfully we were able to get to Kanyisa before the service ended. We watched a youth group give an interpretive dance and a skit to a song called ‘Everything’ by Lighthouse. A man and an interpreter gave a sermon and those of us from the catholic mass who were sitting in the back were then taken  to save spots for lunch at Mzolis. The service at Kanyis ran really late so we sat there for almost two hours. We ate a fat cake while we waited, which is an enormous African doughnut that has been fried to the point of tremendous greasiness. When the whole group arrived, we ate meat out of huge tubs that were passed around the table. Plates were nothing to mess with and napkins were used to the max as we ate and talked. Mzoli’s was loud and boisterous, the atmosphere of a bar being quite odd on a Sunday, much less on Easter.

            After lunch we made the trip out to Robben Island. We were taken to a group cell and told how life at the prison was. We saw Mandela’s cell and the quarries in which he and other prisoners toiled and were tortured. The day was rainy and gloomy which seemed to fit the mood of the island. None of us expected the island to be that large and spread. The tour was short and not overly exciting but it was powerful to be in the place that Mandela, the hero of South Africa, spent so many years.

            The evening brought a delicious couscous dinner and scrumptious Haagen Dazs ice cream. We stayed at the Saasveld Lodge near Long Street. Some people even went out on Long Street but we elected not to go clubbing on Easter. At the end of the day, we reflected on the diverse Easter we had. The homily at mass came in handy just then. The priest had spoken about being open to life and to what God has in store for you. God had provided us with an Easter full of surprises. Yes, we ate in a messy loud place without our families but we still celebrated the day with the community we have built in South Africa. We went to a prison but that gave us a chance to be grateful for our own freedom. We woke up in a township and went to be in a comfortable hotel. We were afforded the opportunity to see just how blessed we are to have been given such a distinct Easter Sunday in South Africa.

Fall Break: Gugulethu Home Stay

 Saturday, 23rd April, 2011.         
             We departed from Tsitsikamma early Saturday morning and made the drive to Cape Town, stopping for a nice lunch along the way. Our destination for the evening was Gugulethu, a township about 10 miles outside of Cape Town. Mama Knox had started a cooperative business with our tour guide, Mike, through which people were taken into homes of other Mamas in the neighborhood for home stays. She started with just a few Mamas and now has 16 other Mamas in her business.  We arrived in Gugulethu around 6:30 pm that night, an hour behind schedule and our Mamas had all gone home to finish cooking dinner. When they returned they took us in pairs to their homes. Heather and I were to stay with Mama Ndsentu and her family. Her youngest son, Siko (who was 5), was a bouncing dancing ball of energy the entire time. When we got to the house, we met her older daughter Natasha, who was 15, had cooked us all dinner. The home was quite nice inside. The rooms were in no short supply of decorations and the appliances you would find in any other home were present. Besides the neighborhood, the only ways you could tell you were in a township home were from the age of the house and the building materials. The bathroom was half-finished and the laundry was obviously done in the bathtub. After we sat and had some introductory conversation about her family and the usual questions about our schooling, we took a short walk to her friends house. A short distance from her house we heard a dog crying and saw one lying in the street. Mama Ndsentu immediately said that her dog always sleeps in the street and was probably just fine but when the crying persisted, we went over to the dog who’s gritted teeth revealed its pain. A neighbor man came to carry the dog back to the driveway of the house as Mama Ndsentu’s husband was arriving home from work. Eventually the dog was stood up and it shook the shock off and seemed fine. They took the dog to the garage and Heather and I still don’t know what came of it. We continued on our walk following the dog incident. When we arrived at her friend’s house, her friend’s son let us in and we stayed for a little while even though his mother wasn’t home. He and Mama Ndsentu’s two sons taught me how to play UNO which was quite funny playing with three tricky little boys.

After the lively game of UNO we went back to the house and ate dinner. They were all quite surprised that Heather and I had eaten samp before and liked it. Dinner brought good light conversation with the whole family, Shrek 2 providing a charming ambiance. After eating, Heather and I offered to do the dishes and Siphosethu, the 12 year old daughter whose turn it was to do dishes, emphatically accepted. To be honest it was the most fun I have ever had doing dishes. We chatted with Sipho and Siko commanded Heather and I to wash the dishes, demonstrating with an imaginary dish. Siko also graced us with his modeling walk and tried to teach us how to dance. It’s a little embarrassing when a 5 year old boy is better at dancing than a 20 year old girl but it’s entertaining nonetheless. Siko then decided to label Heather and I as different kinds of fruits and finally me as a shark and Heather as a fish. While the conversation with Sipho remained light and on the surface, giggles were had and a little bit of expectation was broken down. They were all surprised Heather and I had offered to do the dishes and when we had fun doing it and chatted with the family as if it were normal, I think they were pleasantly surprised.

After dishes and a little more of Shrek, the family began to yawn and bedtime became imminent. When we were shown the bedroom, it became obvious we had displaced two of the children, which was slightly uncomfortable but we knew there was nothing we could do about it. We whispered our thoughts about the day for a few minutes and promptly fell asleep. At 2 am the dog started barking relentlessly for like 10 minutes and I was up the rest of the night every half hour. When morning broke, we were offered a shower but we said we could just pin our hair up. It seemed like taking a shower was quite the task as Mama would have had to heat water on the stove and put it in the tub and we only had 20 minutes before Mass. We ate a quite breakfast and took a picture with the two boys and Mama Ndsentu and were walked back to Mama Knox’s house.

While we didn’t have any conversations that explored life in the township or racial boundaries, the home stay was still a wonderful experience. We were offered insight into what a family in a township, albeit a nicer part of the township, lived like. It’s a simple thing, but we broke down some boundaries that are not often broken. We were told that foreigners, much less white foreigners, do not stay in the townships often. It was unheard of for whites to sleep in the townships until only a few years ago and whites during apartheid could not enter the townships for fear of violent repercussions, fears based in reality. So our simple home stay is evidence of the small steps in the continuing road of breaking down the continued legacy of apartheid.  

Fall Break: Tsitsikamma

Friday, 22 April, 2011
Bright and early found new meaning for our early departure from PE to embark on our 10-day adventure. We’d been packing and skyping into the late hours and had only gotten an hour and a half of sleep before the 630 am car ride. I slept most of the drive to Tsitsikamma and when my eyes opened they were accosted with the sight of breathtaking mountains and sheer drops. The world’s highest bungee jump, Face Adrenalin, at Bloukran’s Ridge was the first stop of the day and 25 out of the 29 in our group made the jump. Laura, Lindsay, Heather, and I sat out the terrifying leap (Lindsay and Heather for financial reasons and Laura and I for fear we might die of a heart attack on the walk there or at the edge of the bridge). The fact that the bridge had cars driving over it while people jumped surprised me for some reason but I’m sure the pumping music on the platform (underneath the road) made the outside world disappear. We were able to watch them plunge and bounce into the canyon from a balcony as well as watch their faces and a zoomed in account of their jump on a TV screen. Everyone said it was the best thing they had ever done, that the thought of utter regret as they got to the edge was replaced with the complete adrenaline of the fall and the total peace and quiet in that moment alone in the canyon. I had a few moments of wishing I had forced myself to do it because the looks of utter ecstasy on everyone’s faces made such a frightening prospect seem appealing. I made a pact with Laura that we would do something that terrifies us before we leave (she went skydiving in Drakensburg at the end of break). I’m not sure what else I can do that terrifies me other than skydive and I’m not sure I would be able to do that unless Zach became a professional skydiver first and jumped out of the plane with me. Something tells me that won’t happen in the next 3 weeks. So I may have to extend the pact to the next few years.

Following the death-defying bungee, we drove to Tsitsikamma National Forest. The drive down to the coast wound through think forest that held an element of jungle in its leaves and roots. The waves crashing along the rocky coastline were absolutely spectacular, each at least 20 feet with impressive spray misting over the rocks and drifting up to us. Our tour guide took us on a hike along the Otter trail, which he warned would be quite hard. We took it a pace so fast that pictures turned out blurred as we walked. We were still able to cath glimpses of the beauty surrounded us as we hiked up and down rooted hills and traversed along the huge boulders of the coast. The boulders presented a special challenge for those of us who were vertically challenged because our feet were almost always 5 inches short of their destination and leaping onto unstable rocks was a little nerve racking.  We finally reached the waterfall and proceeded to jump in the water and swim up to it, climbing onto it for a photo op. The water was quite literally the coldest water I had ever felt in my life. Laura and I nearly panicked on impact with the icy pool and Taylor’s reminder to breathe was quite helpful. We were helped up onto the rocks of the waterfall and stayed there for enough time to calm down and take in the brilliant sight of ocean coast in front of us and mountains stretching behind us. The hike back seemed less strenuous and we enjoyed the strength it took to clamber over the rocks. By the time we got to the backpacker for the evening, we were exhausted and ready for the yummy meal provided across the street. After dinner we sat around the fire and chatted for an hour or so. After a phone call to Mom and Zach, I went to bed happy and tired and ready for the next 9 days of the adventure.

11 Giraffes, and 3 Baby Lions...Just another day in South Africa

              We’ve all grown up hearing the phrase “Lions, tigers, and bears. Oh my!” That phrase has now transformed; bears have been replaced with giraffes. We made our way to Sea View Lion Park on a mission to pet a baby lion, a goal that simply had to be checked off our South Africa to do list.  King Cabs came through when Avis neglected to tell us they didn’t have a car available when we made a reservation the night before. When we came upon 11 giraffes in our path, we were quite glad to have someone else driving. Enamored with the awkwardly elegant animals in such close proximity, we took more pictures than necessary by far. After we had gotten our fill of giraffes, we walked through the park observing lions in cages, which I must say was a little less exciting than seeing them out in the open at Scotia Game Reserve. In the middle of these gorgeous native animals was an enclosure that surprisingly enough held two tigers, the classic Tigger sort. While they certainly aren’t native to South Africa, we enjoyed watching them prowl nonetheless. We were then taken to our final destination, the coveted baby lions. After picking out some fun souvenirs for family and friends back home, we bought the ticket to the cuteness.

Two of the lions were three and a half months old, the other five months. Sleeping was their activity of choice, making the prospect of being in such close contact with such a powerful animal a little less nerve racking. The fact that they were smaller than my brother Mick’s dog Grady also lessened the intimidation factor. But of course they weren’t to stay like that. The lion I was petting decided he would like to wake up and play and began to bat around at our hands and arms with his paw. The caretaker said this was perfectly benevolent behavior but when she informed us that we should bat him on the nose if he were to bite, I got slightly nervous. Inspecting the pictures afterward revealed that at one point when I jumped up a little at his first batting of the paw, he stared at my behind rather like it was a tasty morsel he would like to take a bite out of. (I’m glad I didn’t realize that at the time or I would have been out of the cage in a flash).  After a day of tall surprises and playful lions, we returned home with adorable pictures and an item to tick off our to do list.

Providing Context for Apartheid Literature

            Literature in South Africa is undeniably painted through with the effects of apartheid. Each novel we have read brings to light the depth and breadth of the atrocities and their effect on the South African people (a list of the books I’ve read so far can be found at the bottom of this post). Our literature professor understands the difficulty of reading such harrowing literature and provided added context for us by inviting a fellow professor to speak in class. The guest speaker, Janet Cherry, gave us a brief history and overview of the influence of activists and the unifying effects of music throughout the struggle.  Janet Cherry was a political activist during apartheid and in the years following. She was an underground member of the ANC as well as an active member/leader in the End Conscription Campaign, which worked to end the draft. The draft’s policy of only drafting white young men negatively affected ace relations through a compounding nature; young white men were recruited to police townships and suppress young black men, creating a cyclical pattern of violence. She was involved in this movement when she was arresting in 1986 during the famous State of Emergency that lasted three years. She described this arrest (there are many others) as particularly “funny”. She was warned that activists were being arrested and hid at a non-politically active friends house and when most of her friends were arrested at a meeting, she fled to Cape Town to her brother’s friend’s house. The security police who were sent to find her in Cape Town arrived at the house at 2 am. In her pajamas, she attempted to climb the fence in the backyard, only to be met by a security policeman. He asked who she was and she replied with a sassy “Who are you?” to which he replied that he knew she was Janet Cherry and she should promptly return to the house. The chase was over and she was taken back to Port Elizabeth and jailed at a prison for female political activists that I actually pass every time we drive to the Haven. The prison was given the name Rooi Hel meaning red hell for the horrors committed there. While Janet was not tortured, she was kept in solitary confinement for 2 months. After those two months, she still was quite secluded as the prison was segregated and she was the only white woman there at the time. She witnessed the torture of many women and one woman died due to lack of medication for her diabetes while she was in prison. One would think this would only produce negative effects in a person, but Janet still produced a positive outcome. During this stint in prison, she completed an honors degree and “even got out in time to write end of term exams”. During her next long imprisonment, she began her masters and she is now a professor of development studies at NMMU. Janet worked as a researcher for the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC). At one point a police officer applied for amnesty for throwing brick through the windscreen of her moving car, an action that could have easily killed her. Not only did she research for the commission, she was able to witness several public hearings, an experience that would touch any soul with the power of confession and reconciliation.  While we have studied the TRC in depth this semester, meeting someone who was a part of the process is gives added life to something we’ve encountered mostly through textbooks. Meeting a white political activist who crossed racial boundaries to join the struggle for an equal South Africa again forces me to realize how recent the struggle is and how close and real it still is today.  

**List of books so far: Long Walk to Freedom by Nelson Mandela, No Future Without Frogiveness by Desmond Tutu, My Traitor’s Heart by Rian Milan, Disgrace by J. M. Coetzee, Triomf by Marlene Van Niekerk, and 13 Cents by K. Sello Duiker.

A Girl's Day in South Africa

            A girlfriend’s birthday is a perfect excuse to venture out for a day of fun with the girls. To celebrate Heather’s 21^st, our flat went to Casa Mia Health Spa, a quaint escape tucked 15 km away from Addo National Elephant Park in the fragrant citrus trees. Infused with Mexican style, the beige stucco, bronze wrought iron, and weathered wooden doors, Casa Mia was a great place to steal some relaxation and time away from endless reading lists. We chose the anti-stress package and it certainly fit the bill after a busy few weeks of reading, presentations, and papers.  The schedule entailed a sauna, a hydro bath, an Indian head massage, a color elements full body massage, a light lunch, and a pedicure. Most treatments were relaxing to the point of sleep inducing, a welcome phenomenon. The hydro bath was slightly more amusing as Laura and I had to share a tub. Entering the romantically lit room with pale hibiscus blooms delicately placed around the room and rim of the tub, our giggles immediately did not fit the charming atmosphere (neither did our bath-foam-turned-Santa Claus-beards which can be seen on Facebook).  Between treatments we lounged by the pool reading South African health and beauty magazines and observing a particularly active butterfly flit between the hibiscus and Bougainvillea. The light lunch was simply yummy; the light mango chutney complemented the fresh cut vegetables, mango strips, and tender chicken breasts over a bed of greens. Casa Mia provided friendly service and a place to chat and relax with the girls. So after a day of loosened muscles and pretty toes, we made our way back to the reality of Port Elizabeth and a night of fun for Heather.

Thumbs Ups and High Fives at the Haven

                Today was completely worthy of all thumbs up and high fives given. I’ll start with what may not seem like a thumbs up worthy moment. Naughty behavior has been an issue for us, as activities with 17 2-5 year olds will usually illicit. The issue of discipline has perplexed us as “No” only goes so far and time-outs aren’t enforced regularly enough to make sense to the kids. We’ve had several moments lately where shining moments of progress have appeared but today brought a concrete accomplishment. Sibu is an adorably mischievous child, who ran up to me screaming “Mama” today, alerting that he was feeling a little extra excited. He remained positive until after lunch, when he proceeded to hit Manthe in the head with a chalk eraser, threw a plastic chair at Tylo and hit Tylo with a large Lego square in the face. Witnessing all three things in such quick succession and realizing no was simply not going to cut it, I picked Sibu up and brought him to the far side of the room and sat him in a chair by himself explaining that since he did something hurtful he had to stay there in time-out for a minute. Surprisingly enough, he listened and when his time was up, he came over to me with sad eyes. Tylo was there and I asked Sibu to say sorry to him. The sweetest “sorry” with a long rolled “r” was given to Tylo and reciprocated with the same. I said good job and asked them to hold hands and be nice, which they did. They gave each other and me big smiles and were given high fives and thumbs up in return. I was pretty proud of Sibu for listening and for following through and playing nice. I know this wasn’t the most sophisticated way to discipline and may not point to giant leaps and bounds but it was certainly a step in the right direction.
               Now we’ll turn to the moment that definitely elicited an “aww” from me, brought to you by Cedriono, who we know as the sad one to whom our hearts always reach. Today, he was immediately playful, a sight that fills our hearts due to its rarity. The last two mornings, he has immediately come up to me and started to play. His favorite game is when I pick him up and he flops backwards so his head is close to the ground. The only problem with this game is that he gives no warning as to when he is going to become a limp noodle. Nonetheless, it puts a big smile on his face. After about 20 minutes of hanging on me and attempting to elicit laughs, he decided it was reading time. This usually begins with a story read to him, asking simple questions throughout (what color is this? Or Is that a dog?). I’ve found this just makes him shy and he will simply nod in reply. So today I let him flip the pages and point at things, all the while making sure I was watching by turning my face back towards the book if I talked to another little one. Our little process was wonderfully interrupted with the sweetest little voice uttering a simple phrase, “this is a cat”. Though my heart jumped and I beamed that he was finally comfortable enough with me and his surroundings to utter more than very quiet Xhosa phrases to himself, I kept it in and acted like it was normal. Shortly after that I heard the same regarding a dog and then a horse, even sliding in an “air-o-plane”. I gave him a big thumbs up and said “Good job, Cedie!” and he reciprocated with a big smile, hug and another story. Renee overheard me telling someone about a cat and inquired as to what I was talking about and when I relayed what Cedie had done, she beamed and explained how proud she was of him. I have to say I completely agree. I love the days when these adorable little monsters make us proud and these moments will certainly imprint their little faces in our hearts.

Hogsback

            Hogsback was our destination of choice for the long weekend. The town is sweet and sleepy with a fantastic view of mountains which are said to resemble the backs of hogs. We began our sojourn early Saturday morning and drove the 3.5 hours there without a hitch (minus being a bit nervous about winding mountain roads). I must say, driving on the left side of the road is entertaining. After checking into the first backpacker, Terra Khaya, and dropping our things off we decided to jump right in with a hike. The forest was breathtaking, albeit quite muddy, and the hike was even more fun with our added hiking companion, Trensin (I have no idea how to spell her name). We crossed a creek and ducked under trees and spider webs. When we came upon the first waterfall, Madonna and Child, we took a much needed breather and picture taking break. The rest of the hike was still beautiful as well as tiring with its 3.5 hour length. We got back to Away with the Fairies (the second backpacker we stayed at that also had the best hiking trails) and the keys managed to get locked in the trunk (I will mention that it wasn’t my typically clumsy self to blame). Almost all our money and all but one phone was locked away for the evening. We got a ride back to Terra Khaya and a locksmith came in the morning from 280 km away to help. We spent a relaxing morning at Terra Khaya after waking up for a mountain sunrise and proceeded to pack up and explore the town with its quaint artist shops, planning to come back and take a horseback ride through the mountain. However, an afternoon as relaxing as our morning wasn’t in store. A bump in the gravel road broke off a plastic cover underneath the car. Thankfully we were by a pottery studio/farm and the farmers helped us get the car on jacks and retrieve the dangling cover. Then a rock hit something else that proceeded to leak. The tires also ended up being low. We still went to two pottery stops and I got a great souvenir for my mom and Zach’s mom, which was an exciting find. Once we got to Away with the Fairies, we started to sort out car trouble. A group of siblings ended up having a miniature compressor to pump our tires at least a little and another couple who we’d met the night before helped inspect the leakage, which turned out to be nothing.  We had a relaxing evening after we stopped worrying about the car. We ate some of the best pizza ever and played six-person cribbage with the family who had helped with the tires (they were way faster learners than I was).

             We woke up bright and early to watch the sunrise again and embarked on a “2 hour” hike. We made our way back to Madonna and Child and on our way back decided to explore Bridal Veil Falls. When the sign said “rock scramble, 20 mins” it really wasn’t lying. The strenuous and steep climb was entirely worth it when we came upon the middle of the fall and ventured out to take pictures. On our way down, Heather slipped but we thought nothing of it till her toe was all of a sudden quite bloody. We carefully and precariously plopped down on a rock to inspect the slice that ended up being halfway around her toe. Thankfully she had brought her first aid kit and I fixed her up well enough to make it back and re-bandage it. I hate to say that such a mishap was fun, but it was a little exhilarating to be doctoring in the middle of a rock scramble. Cut feet and all, the hike ended up being over 4.5 hours and boy do we feel it. The scenery, which there will be a lot of on Facebook, was simply gorgeous and made the work well worth it. The drive back was uneventful, thankfully and Avis didn’t charge us for the broken cover. So despite the quite stressful (at the time) car troubles and slight injury, the weekend could legitimately be called a success. Being in the mountains is always so refreshing and hiking through nature’s beauty was a blessing in muddy tennis shoes.

Surfing in Jeffrey's Bay

            Flat 14 embarked on our first road trip today, Jeffrey’s Bay the location of choice. The drive was absolutely gorgeous, winding between cliffs of pine with sudden vistas of river valleys flashing past too fast for a camera to capture. Arriving a little too early to the backpacker from which we would embark on our very first surfing lessons, we lounged around on picnic tables observing our first backpacker and watching the surf. When the time came the wetsuits were scrunched on and boards were loaded up and the trek to the beach was made. The classic land lesson first, water lesson next format was followed, great relief being found when we realized we would only be in up our waist in water. Rather than bore with the details of how we learned, I’ll skip to the chase. I stood up! A lot! (There are pictures on Facebook.) It was so much fun all I could do was smile. Add to that the surprise that my usually clumsy self could actually surf, and I was ecstatic.

            We were a tired bunch after our lesson but decided to walk the beach to find shells, which turned out to be a great decision. The beach was one of the best shell beaches I’ve seen in a long time and climbing over rocks was a picturesque moment. Surprisingly enough, I stopped for a cheesy moment and wrote “I <3 Zach” in the sand and took a dually cheesy picture. When we had satisfied our beach wanderings, we explored the shops in town and had a bite to eat. The afternoon ended with a successful drive home. Overall, the day was a memorable one. My first road trip in a foreign country and surfing successfully all in one day makes for a good one in my books.

Frontier Weekend

Day 1

            We began our sojourn into the Winterberg Mountains in Shaddly’s bus. Taylor and I sat in front, which holds a twofold benefit; we didn’t get carsick and we got to learn a little more about the beautiful mountains we were driving through. The scenery was striking as we wound up the mountains, with the occasional 20-minute stop for construction. It was put to shame when we arrived on the first of two farms, tucked into impressive poplar trees and lush bushes. We were provided a nice lunch and told that we were entering the realm of real South African farmers as their houseguests. We then milked a cow and drank straight from the utter after we fed an Eland housed in the same pasture as my ever-favorite horses. We were taken on bakkies (trucks with bars to hold standing people in the bed of the truck) on a bumpy road to a place that utterly took my breath away. We climbed a massive, rounded rock face to awing views of the Winterberg Mountains. A swim in the river beneath this rock was refreshing and exhilarating.

            After such an exciting afternoon, the group sat beneath trees and had a glass of wine by the fire. Laura and I got to thank Winnie and hear the story of how she and her husband, Marnus, began housing students for an orientation to South African farming. These people were so generous to open their homes to us (even letting me send Zach a message on Facebook as there was no service and I didn’t want him to worry). The dinner was authentically Afrikaans and consisted of a delightful pumpkin dish which will be made very soon in Flat 14.

            After dinner, we were taken to the second farm and the house we were to sleep in. The house was the farmer’s sons and had been his great grandmothers. It is reminiscent of the times in which it was built, the 1940s. In both houses on this farm I felt my grandmother and grandfather there. Grandmother would have adored the kitchens and the office and bar areas were right up my Grandfather’s alley. The living rooms in both houses were strikingly Aunt Ruth Anne.  The son whose home we stayed in and who showed us around the property and shot little 22’s with us on Saturday was so much like cousin Ed I had to laugh. I thoroughly enjoyed being reminded so heavily of family this weekend.

Day 2

            Crisp mornings are always my favorite, with the sunshine peeking through a layer of clouds and settling on the soft dew to create a atmosphere of complete harmony. Saturday morning provided that much-desired feeling with a little flavor of Africa. Breakfast was an affair to behold; looking out onto breathtaking gardens my mother would have had a heart attack over (don’t worry Mom, I took pictures of the roses for you). Memories of gardening with Mom were a fun treat with breakfast.
            A little less breathtaking were the sheep being shorn for our viewing and educational pleasure. However, the sound of a sheep baaing is hilariously similar to an imitation of the same done by a human. Following the sheep experience, we were taken up the mountain in our favorite, the bakkie. We hiked up a portion of the mountain, and each time we came to a peak, there was another to climb. The exertion was completely worth it when we got to the top for great photo-ops and gorgeous views of the Winterbergs.

            Saturday afternoon hosted tennis with an Eland overlooking the players, tea with delicious deserts, and target practice with 22’s. Dinner was delicious as the other meals had all been. By the end of the day, the group was exhausted and ready for a good sleep.

Day 3 

            Bumped and bruised, we began our last day of the Frontier Weekend. We flew down the mountain in the back of a 4x4 to the beginning of a trail leading to a dried-up waterfall. This sounds unimpressive, but the scenery was yet again, inspiring. We came upon two cliffs, approximately 30 feet apart and at least that much high. Stepping over the rocks and swimming through the river, albeit scary, was worth the fright when we all climbed up the waterfall and captured images that we will never forget. When else are we going to hike and swim to a waterfall and clamber up the same to take a giant group picture…in Africa. So bumped, bruised, and tired, we returned to Port Elizabeth enriched with how a real South African farmer lives.

Little Adults

            We are working with little people. They are complex individuals despite their small statures and cherub like faces. It’s sometimes hard to treat children like they are equals but treating them as little adults gives them confidence and fosters more open connection. Children feel empowered when they are given respect and are treated not as if they are toddlers without much independent thought. Obviously this does not mean we should treat toddlers as though they don’t have needs specific to their age or as though they don’t need a few extra hugs when they fall off the slide. But when you work with kids like they are your friends rather than like you are solely their caregiver, they are empowered. 

             We took the kids outside to play in the courtyard that houses the swings, slides, and teeter-totters. Some of the children take to the play equipment like peanut butter to jelly. Others need a little encouragement. Others still are unfamiliar with what on earth a slide is. It’s a simple thing to show a child how to use a slide and how to maneuver the teeter-totter. But this simple action allows them to have fun with something new. They’ve now gained a new skill (they are after all, in playschool). They are then more confident. Beyond teaching them how to use a swing, some of the children need help playing with other children. Cedriono, the boy who finally smiled on the first day, has trouble playing with other kids. He is extremely shy and reserved and seems to be perpetually down. But show Cedri (as the other kids call him) how to swing on a swing and then bring another shy child to swing on the bench swing with him, and he will give you a smile. He’ll start to swing himself, maybe even talk a little bit. All he needs is a little push to be more confident. By treating him like he is your friend and bringing another little one into the situation, he feels empowered to play with other children and smile while doing it.

Who gets a concussion from getting into a Kombi?

So we all know I am not the world's most coordinated individual. That lack of coordination has reached a new level as of Wednesday. As I stepped onto the Kombi (Van-type taxis that primarily transport students), I somehow managed to stand up right into the doorframe, my head taking the brunt of the collision. I was pretty dizzy and had a headache and nausea right after but I brushed it off as a bad bump. By the time I had vomited twice, I realized the bump may have been harder than I thought. My dad (pharmacist) and Heather’s mom (nurse) both said all my symptoms pointed to a concussion and because I had thrown up, I should go to the doctor. So to the trauma center we went, Bruce (one of our directors) driving and Heather coming along as well. I’m happy to say that the private hospitals are quick, efficient, and clean when you have the means to pay for treatment. (I cannot say the same for the government hospitals, which are a mess. Even the private hospital was not a happy place for those who didn’t have insurance). I still have a headache and am dizzy but nothing too bad. I suppose that’s what I get for being a klutz. Who gets a concussion from getting into a Kombi?

Paint, Paint...and More Paint

Our first project at the Haven has been to paint five bedrooms and all the bathrooms. In two days we have gotten two rooms painted. The floorboards, cabinets, and floorboards on the first room have been completely scoured. As we scrubbed on our hands and knees (yes the Cinderella song about the bubbles was brought to mind) we realized how needed these small contributions are. Every time a staff member passed us they would smile and cluck under their breath, murmuring a thank you here and there. It may not be much to scrub floors and get the stickers off the cabinets, but it is something they don’t have to do; time they can devote to other things. During a seminar on service, we discussed tenents of community development. One of these being “be an agent of change instead of a passive observer.” Being an agent of change connotes work of great magnitude. I’ve come to think of it, especially in the light of community development, that being a change agent can be simply small positive improvements that sustains until a collaborative and larger scale change might be made. So as we walk around spattered with paint (the paint sticks all too well), they have time to do other things, and the environment for these children is just that much improved. Small improvements are great things in the life of a child. I think we can live with the annoying paint spackles. :) 

Catholic Truly Means "Universal"...just with a couple differences

Laura and I went to student mass on campus today (our third Mass in South Africa). It’s put on by a small group called ACTS, held in a classroom, and said by the priest from the church that is basically in our backyard. It sounds simple when described thus. The experience itself is anything but. The songs were a mix of English songs we’ve all sung since elementary school and songs in Xhosa and other tribal and African languages. I’ve never heard a group of young people sing with such emotion and such smiles before. I’ve never felt so welcome in a new group of students before. It was interesting to see the differences in the style of mass as well as changes in wording. I can tell you that replacing the words you’ve prayed for years with a different version is much harder than one would think. No matter how many times I remind myself that I am supposed to respond with “And with your spirit,” I inevitably say “And also with you.” The differences in the Penitential Rite and the Nicene Creed catch me off guard to be certain. You can spot the Americans, even in Mass, because we are the ones saying all the wrong words. I report all this, not to complain, but rather to share the excitement of a new kind of Mass.  Each time I go to Mass, I notice something new and different. I notice how they sing a part we speak and visa versa. But most of all, through all of these new songs and new voices, I realize something new. God knows every language. His love knows no bounds. When I hear the new chorus singing, I hear a different note played by the Lord. God shines through in all the smiles and the diverse voices in a new and exciting way. I can’t wait to keep seeing Him shine.

"The Lion King" Gets Put to Shame

Everyone thinks of going on a Safari when they think of Africa. We actually got to! We went to Addo Elephant National Park and Schotia Game Reserve and saw over 22 different kinds of animals. Not only did we see them, we saw them within 25 feet of the bus (at Addo) and the safari vehicles (at Schotia). Rather than list off all the animals and attempt to tell the story of how we saw each unique one, check out the albums on my Facebook. The pictures tell a story far better than I could. Make sure to note the baby elephants, warthogs, zebras, wildebeests, and lions. The cute factor is somehow not diminished by the fact that they are dangerous animals and not a whole lot separates them from you. Schotia Game Reserve was an experience to behold. Not only did we drive in an open safari vehicle, we ate a traditional South African meal of Kudu/Impala stew in an open-air pavilion.

            What the camera couldn’t capture is the true beauty of South Africa’s nature. The sun shone a perfect gold and the sky’s blue was crisper than ever. The hills seemed endless in their rolling. The moon shone brighter and more beautifully when it shone over the hippos and lions of the night. Driving along underneath the African stars and moon, I realized something. Everyone at home gets to see this same beautiful moon. Even though Zach wasn’t in the safari vehicle next to me, he gets to see the same moon every night. Seeing all the beauty yesterday helped me to realize how beautiful all of God’s creation is, even if we see the same landscape every day. We have the gift of beauty in front of us every day. I want to start appreciating it. (Even if there won’t be baby lions in that beauty every day.)

Exploring New Brighton and New Ideas

You have an idea of what the townships are like before you go there. Your idea is altered when you drive through and begin working at a service site. Your idea becomes a whole new beast when you spend a day in the environment these people live in, when you explore their economy and their culture, when you are welcomed into their homes and shown a small portion of how they live.

Today Bradley, a tour guide/teacher/political activist who had given our city tour and had shown us a small piece of the townships last week, took us into the heart of the townships. Our first stop was a Spaza shop that produce a simple bread in a traditional style of African baking (a Spaza shop is a small shop in what is essentially a shipping container that the government subsidizes for small businesses). Our second stop was unexpectedly impressive. We were taken to a soup kitchen run by the iThembe Women’s Group. The woman running the show was quite modest so when Bradely exposed her fascinating past, we were taken aback at being so close to history. This woman, “Mama” Regina Mngadi, was a political activist alongside Mandela. She was imprisoned with the same people and “ran in the same circles”. She has worked as a Christian social services worker for over 12 years in addition to this and retired to provide a service for the people of New Brighton. She serves the children lunch every day out of her own garden and the little funds she and the iThembe Women’s group can come by. She says with a warm smile and a low chuckle “I just do what I love, which is to help people.” As Bradely says, these people are rare. I am blessed to have been that close to one of them and to be invited to work with her and the children she helps in the future.

Following such a historical moment, we moved on to the art of the townships. We visited a pottery studio of a woman who keeps her talents in the townships so that it is authentic as well as to avoid the exploitation of tourism. Her pottery provided an insight into the creativity and innovation of the people. The gorgeous art was also purchased as gifts to bring home, gifts that are truly and uniquely from South Africa.

The rest of the afternoon was filled with small stops to point out the houses of political activists and memorials to atrocities of Apartheid. Between these stops we visited a tavern in New Brighton that is frequented by political activists within the townships. A surprising phenomenon occurred here. I almost expected it to be tense, even unwelcome in a sense that 9 white people with one colored man would enter into the place they socialize. Instead we received nods, waves, and smiles, with only a few questioning looks. Bradley pointed out that 5 years ago that would not have been the case. The racial lines are blurring and it is acceptable to enter into each other’s domains when entering with a polite open attitude and a smile for everyone. It was unexpected to learn so much from having a beer in a tavern. It was unexpected that I would have a better understanding of what still stands in the way of the peaceful and comfortable mingling of races in South Africa. So much of it is still the pain of Apartheid and the pain the government still causes the people of South Africa. I will not diminish that fact. It seems in part though that in social situations, the lines can be crossed if only you have an open heart and mind.

Our last stop of the day was to a vegetable market on the side of the street where a bag of potatoes was 7 rand (one dollar) and two peppers for 4 rand (75 cents). Here the smiles and laughs continued, with still a few skeptical eyes as these markets are not frequented by whites (according to Bradely). Some seemed to look at us like it was perfectly normal, others looking at us almost as if they were pleasantly surprised and glad that we did not find it uncomfortable to be there.

To be perfectly frank I am honored to have experienced a day in the life of the people of New Brighton. I feel that with this new perspective on how the township operates and what people do for a living, for entertainment, and for survival, I will be better able to serve people. I will know the heritage of the children at the Haven, at least to a small extent. Today has sparked in me a desire to learn so much more about the history not written down, about the culture one cannot experience unless guided through it in the place it grows.  

Cedriono

February 2011

The first day of service at the AIDS Haven (House of Resurrection) presented with the most smiles, laughs, and shrieks of small children I’ve heard in quite some time. The sounds and sights were quite welcome, indeed they were eye-opening. Towards the beginning of the morning, I noticed one small boy sitting alone by a wall looking very glum. Discovering the Hulk toy he harbored within his grasp was the key to producing a smile in this little person. Spinning in circles in my arms even produced a laugh. One of the housemothers witnessed this and exclaimed that she hadn’t seen Cedriono smile in weeks and proceeded to thank me with a warm smile.

I learned a simple lesson during my first two days at the Haven. Children need love. Simple as that, the desire for care and attention supersedes other needs at times. The children at the Haven have limited special attention simply due to the fact that there aren’t enough staff members to pay attention to each child for extended periods of time (beyond their immediate needs). The South African culture values the expression of love and joy in a way that extends beyond the American celebration of these values. If love and joy are present in their lives, the hardships that are inevitable seem to be lessened by the cushion of a hug or happy conversation. 

The Brick Wall

Shortly before coming here we received an email containing images from the townships, images which touched me. However, when actually driving through to Bush Camp, we saw the townships in person. The images became even more harrowing when we visited Missionvale yesterday. Missionvale is a township with approximately 130,000 residents in a space in which only 15,000-20,000 would live in a residential area in the US. The shacks, for they can be called nothing else, are built with building materials with roofs held down with rocks. Running water and plumbing are unheard of here. Outhouses in the backs of yards are a dangerous place in the evenings (especially for young girls) for violence is rife in this place, brought on by gangs, drugs, and alcohol. Missionvale Care Center, the place where some of us may be volunteering (hopefully I will be one of them), is an oasis of help for this area. The care center holds 9 departments, including, but not limited to, a nutrition center, a school, a food shelf, a garden, a nursing unit that provides home care for the area (traveling to the homes to deliver care), and several skills learning centers. Sister Ethel, an Irish Catholic nun, who saw an extreme need for aid in the area, founded the center. She set up under a tree and her operation slowly grew to the much larger settlement with several buildings, with the help of over 200 Irish workers. The conditions in which they live hit me like a brick wall, but what hit me much harder was what came next.

            The most amazing part about this center was the overall attitude held by workers and those receiving aid alike. Smiles are in no short supply here, nor are waves or a look so friendly your heart melts. The children peer into your eyes with such happiness and hope that your heart cannot help but break. I cannot fathom going through the horrors these individuals go through on a daily basis and even being civil, much less so friendly and compassionate. The attitude held through in the House of Resurrection, an AIDS Haven for children. The attitude spread through to the township we toured today. Such smiles in the face of such destitution give one hope for life. They give one a sense that God will provide and will help people to at least be happy. Such smiles make you realize that we must give them more than smiles. We must help to give them cause to smile in some way. I hope from the bottom of my heart that our work this semester at the very least helps us to give them more smiles.

Bush Camp

Bush camp was an experience to be sure. Full of muddy surprises, hand sanitizer was our friend throughout. Lesson number one learned during bush camp: do not take drowsy medication for your cold when you will be entertained with camp activities designed for tweens. Lesson number two: Once the rain starts, you should basically give up on being clean in any sense (other than your hands with our friend the sanitizer). Lesson number three: swimming and canoeing on an African river in the bright sunshine with mountains in view is a breathtaking, once in a lifetime experience. Lesson four: yoga in the rain is quite liberating. Five: army crawling through mud pits is fun but results in every inch of your body harboring some sort of mud. Now I will desist with the numbering. The sun was mean with heat but the fun kept going. I climbed the rock wall all the way to an overhang that became my braking point. The heat was relieved by a nice light rain, which transitioned into a torrential downpour (3 inches in one hour at one point). That annoying but much needed rain proceeded to flood us out of our tents the second night. However, the sleepover on tables pushed together in the dining hall was pretty entertaining (although not overly restful). After the muddy smelly weekend was completed, Langerry seemed an oasis to us all. I’m finally clean and feel mostly dry, though my tennis shoes are reluctant to let go of the mud and moisture of bush camp.

           

The Long Trek...

Technically the long trek to South Africa began last year but a few days before I left, it started to hit me that I was actually leaving. Packing began to consume my thoughts and may have stressed me out a little (thanks for the patience and Zach J). The night before I left consisted of Zach, Mom, and Dad calming down a slightly freaking out Katie. Packing wasn’t complete till 4:03 am when I left the door. Thankfully Zach got to wait by the gate with me and send me off with a movie worthy airport goodbye and I could see him at the last possible second (cheesy yes I know). Of course the first flight was delayed by an hour so I had my first run through an airport to make my connection in Chicago. The six-hour layover in DC was made even lovelier by spending it with my roommates Laura and Heather. My nerves tingled at a high pitch as I boarded the plane. Thankfully rearrangements were made so that I could sit next to Heather on the wonderful 17-hour plane ride to Johannesburg.

            The first taste of South African culture came with the funny safety video, which came in the form of a cartoon. The plane food began with Tika Masala and kept going with fun new dishes. By the time we arrived in Port Elizabeth we were all sufficiently exhausted and certainly in a daze. We had also gotten used to the chipper South African accents, which lilt and glide along words in a soothing sing song. Norma and Bruce, our directors, were a welcome and cheery sight. I’m not sure I actually saw Langerry Holiday Flats until the next morning when I had woken up slightly more refreshed and phone calls to Zach and parents had been made. The next day was filled with unpacking, beach time, and a grocery store trip.  Settling in was a welcome phenomenon but little did we know that we would be uprooted in a slightly shocking manner during the days to come…

Rise and Shine, Up and Go! South Africa is here!!!

South African Adventures have been underway for approximately 8 days now so this blog is a little belated. I’ve finally conquered the jetlag and am no longer in a complete daze. The past week has been filled with a slight dose of culture shock mixed with amusement at things that are different (yes including driving on the wrong side of the road). From airport time in excess to rain and mud in “the Bush”, time has moved fast and shows no signs of slowing down. Rather than flood this with a novel containing the events of the last week, I’m going to put a few posts up so as to make it at least a little more readable (not that I ever ramble). Feel free to skim through my hopefully endless ramblings on this blog, root through and find the actually interesting things.